Prison Boy

by Sharon McKay

  “Every child has value, not only the gifted,” Bell snorted.

  Pax looked from Bell to Dr. Bennett. What gift?

  “Pax here can tell the best stories in the world,” Bell said.

  Pax’s mouth flapped open in wonder. Bell always told him that he had too big an imagination.

  “And Mega could be a great chef one day, if she had the chance,” she added. Mega lowered her head.

  “What about us, Bell?” Santoso and Guntur bounced up and down.

  “Zookeepers,” said Bell.

  “Yay!” The twins leapt up in the air.

  “And as for . . . Bhima, he could be a . . .” She paused.

  “He could be an explorer,” said Pax.

  Bhima looked at Pax in surprise. Pax had no idea what Bhima could or could not do; he just did not want him to feel left out.

  Dr. Bennett faced Pax. “Bell tells me that you have taken great care of Kai.” Pax stepped back and stared at the doctor. “I am here to help Kai, and you too, if you will let me,” he added.

  What was he to say? Pax didn’t want any help. He looked down at his feet.

  “We must be off. Dr. Bennett is leaving for London tonight,” announced Millie as she stood, tucked her fan into her purse, and flicked imaginary dirt into the air.

  “Wait, take a picture of us.” Bell pulled a small box from her pocket and handed it to Peter. “Okay, everyone, get in line.” Bell waved her arms about as though she were herding animals. “Mega, smile a little. Pax, you are the tallest, stand beside me. Kai, stand in front of Pax. Bambang, stop fooling around, you are not a horse. You should be over that by now. And Bhima, straighten your shoulders and pull your shirt down. No one needs to see your belly.” Bell arranged them in a line and then stood in the middle. Santoso and Guntur stood at either end like two anchors.

  “Ready? Say cheese,” said Dr. Bennett as he clicked the camera. None of them had ever eaten cheese, but they all knew the expression. “One more, just in case,” and he clicked it again. “There you go, Bell.” Dr. Bennett held out the camera.

  “You keep it,” said Bell with a flick of her wrist.

  “I can’t take your camera!” He looked confused.

  “It’s too far to go to develop the pictures. Take it.” Bell waved him away as if he were one of the children.

  “I will develop them for you and mail them to you at your London address. Someone will be in touch about Kai. I am sorry about all this, Bell, but you must think of your health now. You have done your bit.” Dr. Bennett slipped the camera into his pocket.

  To Pax, every word felt like a little spark that went off in his head. London? Health? Pax stared at Bell. She caught his eye, then turned away.

  Dr. Bennett gazed at the small band of children. “I want to give you something. My brother sent it to me, but I think you, and your friends, might enjoy it.” He pulled a book from his black bag and handed it to Kai. “It is called The Seven Natural Wonders of the World. When my brother and I were boys, we planned to see all seven.”

  “Say thank you,” said Bell.

  “Thank you,” repeated Kai. He fell on his knees and opened the book on the floor. All the children gathered around.

  Pax fixed his eyes on Dr. Bennett. He looked like a good man, but still, Bell should have talked to him before he spoke to Kai.

  Millie stood behind Dr. Bennett looking bored. “Really, Dr. Bennett, don’t you think that’s a bit much? They will ruin it,” she said.

  “Nonsense. There are plenty of fine books here. And if they do, well, let’s hope they have a good time ruining it.” Dr. Bennett turned and waved. “Good-bye, Bell. We will catch up in England.”

  “Tomorrow is another day. A door closes and a window opens,” added Millie.

  Pax held his breath. Bell looked as if she might eat Millie.

  Dr. Bennett and Millie set off down the steps and easily hopped the ditch.

  “Bell, are you going to England?” Pax’s heart was beating hard.

  “It’s too late for that,” she said simply.

  “But what did that woman mean when she said ‘Tomorrow is another day’?” asked Pax.

  “It means that she is an idiot.”

  Pax stood beside Bell and watched as Millie, halfway down the path, tried to scrape poop off her shoe. Unsuccessful, she carried on, tiptoeing down the path, her white hankie pressed to her lips.

  “We are asked to forgive the fools of this world. I am tired of forgiving,” whispered Bell.

  Chapter 7

  “Read it to us. Please, Bell, please Bell.” Kai held the book up over his head. It was heavy and might have toppled him had Bambang not plucked it from his hands. “Please, Bell.” Kai was relentless.

  “You can read, can you not?” With the exception of Pax, Kai was the best reader of all the children.

  “But it’s better if you read to us,” said Mega in a tiny voice.

  “Bell must go and lie down,” said Pax. Bell’s face had gone from gray to white. Every breath she took seemed to be labored.

  “Sleeping can wait.” Bell lowered her tiny body into the rocking chair and read the title out loud. “The Seven Natural Wonders of the World. You know that there are also Ancient Wonders and Modern Wonders . . .”

  The children did not know and they did not care. “Open it, Bell.” Their voices blended into one.

  “You sound like a Greek chorus.” She turned the page. “This is Mount Everest. This is the tallest mountain in the world.”

  The children puckered their mouths in ooohs and aaahs.

  “Can people climb to the top?” asked Mega.

  “They do it all the time and leave their garbage behind. Why climb a mountain? What good does it do? If one wants to do something hard, why not cure something? Leprosy, perhaps.”

  “Are there leopards on Mount Everest?” asked Guntur.

  “I have no idea.” Bell turned the page. “Here’s another natural wonder, the Great Barrier Reef. That’s off the coast of Australia. I think people are trying to poison it.”

  “Why?” asked the chorus.

  “Because people are stupid,” said Bell.

  “Is it far? Can we go?” asked Santoso.

  “Yes, and no,” said Bell.

  “What color is that?” Mega pointed to the picture.

  “Blue. That is the color water is supposed to be,” said Bell.

  They could all see the ditch. Some days it was a trickle of sludge, but when the rains came, it was a bubbling stew transporting plastic bags, bits of rubber, cans. There were dead things, too—rats usually, or parts of things, a hoof or a paw. The color of the water was always the same—brown. Even the water that came out of the cistern in the kitchen was brown.

  Bell turned the page. “This is the Grand Canyon. It’s in America. It’s a giant red ditch.”

  “It’s beautiful,” whispered Mega as she looked at the picture of red cliffs.

  “It’s a beautiful ditch.” Bell huffed and scratched at the same time.

  “Can people go there?” asked Bambang.

  “Of course,” said Bell.

  “Will it still be there when I am older?” asked Kai.

  “I’m guessing that it will be there when you get around to it. It says here that it is two billion years old or so,” said Bell.

  “It’s older than you, isn’t it, Bell?” asked Kai.

  Bell stared hard at Kai. “And to think that you are my smart one. Here, take the book and go through the pages yourself. Pax is right. I must lie down now.” Bell handed the book over to Mega, eased herself out of the chair, and slowly walked through the pink room towards her little office.

  Mega, Bambang, Kai, Bhima, Santoso, and Guntur placed the book on a mat and turned each page with great care and reverence. Pax was not interested. Fear was crawling up his back.

  Pax stood on the threshold of Bell’s office.

  “Come in or go out, but don’t stand there like an empty bottle,” said Bell as she flopped down
on her cot.

  “What did the man want with Kai?” Pax asked.

  “Dr. Bennett gave him tests. Apparently we have a genius among us.” Bell tipped a bottle of pills into a cupped hand and tossed the pills into her mouth as if they were nuts. She gulped water, then licked her lips.

  “What does it mean—genius?” asked Pax.

  Bell laid her head down on the pillow. “It means that one day Kai might get into a very good university.”

  “Like Oxford University, in England?” asked Pax. What had that woman Millie said? An academic, the Oxford University type.

  “There are other countries that have excellent universities: Holland, France, America. What about the entire continent of Africa? What about South America? I’m sick of the assumption that only Western universities have any value. Why England?” Bell put her fingertips on her temples and rubbed.

  “Because it’s where you come from,” said Pax, but quietly, almost in a whisper. Anyway, he didn’t know what assumption meant.

  Bell let out a sigh. “Kai is very young. It is all a long time away.”

  “Oxford University,” repeated Pax. “Does Oxford cost a great deal of money?”

  “Pax, enough. You are a dreamer. There are many good universities not far from here. And, with a few exceptions, all universities cost something. Get out the money box. At least we got some cash out of them.” Bell pulled a wad of bills out of her pocket.

  Pax rolled back the rug, pulled up a floorboard, and reached down for a rusted, tin money box. He put it on Bell’s desk.

  “Open it up,” she said.

  The hinges creaked as he pulled off the lid. Pax looked at the flat piles of bills held together by elastic bands. Some were multicolored and dirty, others were crisp and colorful. The American bills were all green and hard to tell apart. Bell tossed in the new roll of money.

  “How much is in here?” asked Pax as he poked the bills in the box with one finger.

  “Not enough. All that money would not last a week in America or England.” Bell closed her eyes.

  “How much money does it cost to go to Oxford University?” He stood as if both feet were glued to the floor.

  Bell opened her eyes and stared hard at Pax. “Ten times that amount just for travel, but after that, if he passed the tests, won a scholarship, and studied hard, he would have his tuition paid.”

  Pax repeated the word. “Too-wish-on. What is that?”

  “It is the fee a student pays to go to university. Put the box away.” Bell wiped her brow with the back of her hand.

  Pax put the money box back in its hiding place, then pushed back the floorboard and rug. “Bell?”

  “WHAT NOW?”

  “Why did they come here in the first place? The foreigners, I mean.”

  Bell took a deep breath, then let the air out of her lungs slowly. “I suppose it’s time to tell you. They want you all to be placed in a new facility, and then they will close this place down.”

  “What is a facility?” His heart pounded inside his chest.

  “It is a building, a holding tank.” Bell’s voice was low, controlled, tired.

  Pax shook his head. Water was held in tanks. Petrol was held in tanks. “But Kai and I will stay together?” Pax meant it as a statement, a conclusion, a fact, but it came out as a question.

  “The government wants to clean up the streets. They want to show the world that there are no problems here, no slums, no orphans, no poverty,” said Bell.

  “We can all stay here together. I can work. I can shine shoes.” Pax’s voice shook.

  “We haven’t the money to keep this place open and I will not allow you to live on the streets. There are diseases on the streets, and drugs, not to mention the gangs. Out there, children younger than you will steal the clothes off your back—WHILE YOU SLEEP.” She breathed deeply. “Everything I have done has been to keep you all off the streets. Five-year-olds work the streets. First they beg, and not long after that, they sell. And do you know what they sell? Themselves! You will all be educated at this facility. You could go to medical school and become a doctor, or maybe an engineer. Anyway, it’s all been arranged.” Bell swung her legs over the side of the cot and stood up. Beads of sweat crested on her forehead.

  “But what you mean is that Kai will go to a different school from me, and that we will live in different places. We will be separated. Kai will be scared.” Pax wanted to yell, to shout, This isn’t fair! Instead, he pressed his lips together so tightly they lost their color.

  “Listen to me, I was wrong. I raised you like British children. I protected you. No, I overprotected you. And that’s what you have done to Kai. Kids his age are out working. He can read and write, he may be a genius, but how will that keep him alive? None of you would last a month out on the streets.”

  “We are not stupid.” Pax just stood, shaking.

  “I am aware of that. Tell me something, why did you take care of Kai? Why not one of the other children?” asked Bell.

  “I do take care of the others.” He was indignant.

  Bell put up her hand to stop him. “It’s different and you know it. I will tell you why. You recognized yourself in him. You want him to have what you did not. You want to raise yourself. But you are a boy too. You have great gifts. You have a purpose. Do you know why I named you after my father, Paxton John?” Bell did not wait for an answer. “I love all the children, but you are like my son.”

  Pax looked up, more shocked than surprised. She said it once before. He remembered, but he did not really believe it. She cared about them, fed them . . . but love?

  “Feed the children their evening meal and leave me alone. Do not disturb me tonight,” she said.

  Pax turned and walked towards the door. Tears crawled up his throat and stung his eyes.

  “Pax, wait!” Bell’s face sagged, her eyes softened. “Remember what I said. It’s time that you took care of yourself. ‘Too long a sacrifice can make a stone of the heart,’” she whispered.

  “I don’t understand,” said Pax.

  “Those are the last words my sister said to me before I got on the airplane to come here. She couldn’t even make up her own words; she quoted a dead poet. Go now. I am tired.”

  “Bell, do you have a stone in your heart?” Confusion was replacing anger.

  Bell didn’t answer. She thumped down in her chair, crossed her arms on the desk, and lowered her head.

  Chapter 8

  Nothing seemed right the next morning. The sun was behind a haze, the water in the cistern had turned from brown to black, twins Santoso and Guntur fought over a pencil and ended up breaking it in half, and Bell would not open her door.

  “Pax, come. Bell is locked in her office,” said Mega.

  Pax cut up a mango and a banana and put them in a big dish for the children’s breakfast. “Leave her. She is just sleeping. She did not look good yesterday. Get ready for school. Kai, come with us. Bell is tired.”

  Off they went, one after another. Partway down the road, Pax looked back at the Pink House.

  “Pax, should we go back?” asked Mega.

  Pax shook his head. “She just had one of her bad days yesterday. She will be better later today.” He walked on but glanced back again, hoping to see Bell on the porch.

  Hours later, when school was over, Mega raced ahead of all the children, bounded up the steps of the Pink House, flew across the great room, and knocked again on Bell’s office door.

  “Bell? Bell?” she called. Nothing, no answer. Mega put her ear against the wood and listened. Still nothing. “Pax, Bell will not open the door. She did not even yell at me to go away. Come, you wake her up.”

  “Bell. Bell.” Pax hammered the door. He twisted the doorknob. It was made of tin and squeaked almost as loudly as Bell could yell. Locked. “Bell, open the door,” Pax shouted. He looked down at his feet. “What’s this?” He picked up an envelope. It had his name on the front.

  “There is tape on it. Maybe it fell off th
e door?” said Mega. Pax ripped open the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper as Mega rattled the handle.

  “Pax, there is no key. What should we do?” asked Mega.

  “Go,” he said.

  “Go where?” Mega stared at Pax.

  “Take everyone out to the porch. Sit with them.”

  Mega was a good girl, a quiet girl, and she was used to doing what she was asked. Today was no different. She told the children to follow her and, by some miracle, they did.

  The paper read, “Do not open the door. Fetch the police.”

  Pax dropped it as he kicked open the door. It was flimsy, the wood rotten, the hinge rusted. It swung open easily and smacked into the wall. Bell lay on her cot, her arms by her side, her legs straight as wooden posts.

  Startled by the noise, the children raced back across the great room and stood in the doorway of Bell’s office, mouths agape.

  “Go back. Go, go!” Pax waved them away and pushed the damaged door closed.

  He knelt down and brushed the strands of silver hair from Bell’s face. She was cold and her skin was paper thin. It was not Bell, not the Bell he knew. It was just an empty body, like the empty pill bottle beside her.

  “Bell, Bell,” he whispered. Tears rushed up the back of his throat. He might cry or he might be sick, he couldn’t tell. The day was hot, but still he took the blanket, laid it across her face and down her body, then tucked it around her. It seemed like the right thing to do.

  What should he do next? Bell’s note had said to call the police. He would send Guntur to Ol’ May’s shack. She would know how to summon them. He moved about without thinking, as if he were a puppet controlled by invisible strings.

  Pax looked at the papers on Bell’s desk. Never, not once, had he seen the desk this tidy. Behind it was a garbage bag filled with paper torn into tiny bits.

  Two envelopes lay side by side on the desk, one fatter than the other. They were both addressed to Children’s Services. Pax opened the fat envelope. One page had the name of a school, and under it a list of names: Mega, Santoso, Guntur, Bambang, Bhima, and his own name—Paxton.

  Official forms filled up the envelope, with detailed information for each child. They listed birth date, place of birth, weight at birth, parents’ names. And then there was information about each child’s education and medical history. Page after page. He came to the last page, the one with his name on it.